


When They Met

by dashingdiscofox



Series: The Death of Duty [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashingdiscofox/pseuds/dashingdiscofox
Summary: Three times they met, and one time Dick didn't make it.





	When They Met

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick spin-off from The Death of Duty, since a few people wondered how Dick and Jason first met.  
> You don't need to read TDoD prior to this, but just be aware that everything is set into the GoT series' world.
> 
> The story is set before Jason's death. Dick is very much going through a rough patch with Bruce. Mentions of a one-sided crush, but nothing underage is happening.
> 
> Also, all the books titles mentioned here aren't my creations, they are from G. R. R. Martin's mind.

 

...

 

The first time they met, they were both angry.

 

“Oh, alright. I see how it is. The moment I plan to negotiate in the Summer Islands, you find yourself another son. That’s convenient.”

“I have enough sons as it is, Dick, and you know this well enough,” Bruce answered in a frustrated voice, his face still dirty from the travelling. “He’s only a ward, and it was your decision to go, not mine.”

“Sure, because you didn’t adopt someone with a tragic familial situation before,” the Dothraki snapped.

“And I was right to do so. Or would you wish you were still homeless?”

 

Dick huffed a joyless laugh. That’s what he got for trapping the man in a corner right after his travel, without letting him time to unwind.

 

“Sure. Kick me out, too, while you’re at it. I’m sorry I’m such an ungrateful child! Maybe the next one will be better!” he shouted, unnerved by Bruce’s blank expression.

 

Next door, Damian cried as he was disrupted from his nap. Dick held his breath, realizing too late how loud he had yelled. He didn’t want to make a scene in front of the toddler. Bruce sighed and went to pick up the small child, only to get him ripped from his arms by a storming Talia, summoned from downstairs by the wails.

 

“Could you go make yourself insufferable somewhere else?” she hissed at Dick, and cooed for the angry baby.

“Yes, I will do so,” he answered, more weakly than he wanted to.

 

He wasn’t part of this family anymore, he realized sadly. What was the point of fighting it? He was a grown man now, he needed not to be a burden. He should have gone away the moment Damian was born. He turned to leave the couple’s room, but Bruce rested a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You are my son, and you will always be, even if I didn’t sire you,” the man whispered, as if he didn’t want his wife to hear. “I’m very proud of the man you became. But right now, there’s a young boy who will need a friendly face, and a welcoming hand. It’s not about being replaced, it’s about being supportive, just like you were with your brother.”

 

Dick let out a long exhalation. He hated when Bruce pressed the “brother” word, as if Damian didn’t kick him almost every time he saw him.

 

“I’m not postponing my trip just to show this guy around,” he said at last, lowering his gaze.

“You won’t have to. He should be arriving tonight.”

 

He nodded, and felt sick to his stomach at how meek he was for always agreeing to the lord’s demands.

 

“I thought you’d bring him with you,” he reflected out loud.

“I couldn’t. I had to arrange the transfer with Winterfell. They were supposed to look after him, but they already have an ironborn ward. It’s safer to keep them separately. Todd did want to replicate Greyjoy’s rebellion, after all. The boy is waiting at the inn, for now.”

 

Dick answered with a non-committal sound, his mind already thinking of warmth and green seas maester Alfred had described to him. Behind Bruce, the toddler was vehemently refusing to get back to bed.

 

 

No one could have expected the hurricane that was Jason Todd. Dick used to think he was enraged with Bruce, but he was wrong. He wasn’t even close to being angry, compared to what he was witnessing. The first thought he had when the guards hauled the screeching teen into the throne room was that he was so tiny, for such big noises. A scrawny young man, between childhood and his adult form, with a deep voice that cut through the cold air like a whip. A furious, feisty whip. Then, Dick was too busy being shocked to think much else.

 

“Fuck you, you moronic louts. Just… _Fuck!_ Let me go, for fuck’s sake…,” the new ward was screaming, and tried to hit the closest guard with his forehead.

 

He didn’t succeed, which was the cause for a longer string of curses.

 

“Enough,” Bruce roared, and the struggle paused instantly. “I will not tolerate this attitude toward my men.”

“Well then tell ‘em to fucking leave me alone!” the teen barked back, lifting his head proudly. “I didn’t ask for this, you shitty winter horseman. Kill me or let me go.”

“I will not let you go, Jason. And I would rather you stay alive. You’re here because of your father’s actions.”

“Fuck him,” he spat, literally, on the floor. “I didn’t do nothing!”

“I know,” Bruce tried again, much softer. “I know you’re not the wrongdoer. This is why you will not be held prisoner here. If you stop this… act, we could show you around the castle.”

“I don’t give a shit about your castle. And fuck you for thinking this is an act.”

 

Dick could hear Bruce breathing to calm himself. All he knew was that he wanted out of this. He didn’t want anything to do with the impolite guest, and he very much didn’t want to be the chosen house guide. He also knew in that moment that Jason was going to escape.

 

“Be caref…,” he started, just as the ironborn stomped onto the guard’s boot and bolted away.

 

Unfortunately for Todd, he instantly crashed into someone and was held on the floor, howling insults at the young soldier who had the fortune of being in his way.

 

“I have the feeling you’re going to miss me,” Dick had the pettiness to add at Bruce under his breath.

 

The older man chuckled, which didn’t improve his mood at all. This was the last straw, assuming Dick had the time and willingness to take care of the untamed ward.

 

“Well, you know what?” he said, keeping his voice down. “He’s right. Fuck you and fuck this.”

 

Dick had enough of playing nice. He had enough of Bruce taking him for granted. He stood and walked away, making a beeline for the wooden door. Jason Todd kept silent as he approached, brows furrowed, obviously confident that Dick was coming his way to kick him in the mouth.

 

“Pleased to meet you,” Dick said instead, tone leveled, proceeding forward and stepping over both men, only sparing a glance at the other.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was the smug answer he got, accompanied by a very sly and toothy grin, quite smashed by his face being held to the ground. “You another hostage here?”

“Not really. Not anymore.”

 

He smiled to himself, couldn’t help but enjoy the irritated way Bruce called after him as he nodded toward a guard to let him through. The door closed behind him, cutting him from the commotion starting again in the room.

 

 

...

 

 

The time they met again, Dick was in love.

 

“Am I to expect grandchildren yet?”

“What?” he said, surprised. “No! Why would you even say that? We didn’t see each other for moons and all you come up with is ‘When’s the baby for?’? That’s concerning.”

“What is concerning is you marrying a stranger that doesn’t even want to live with you.”

“She’s not a stranger!” Dick pressed. “You’ll love her, she’s really sweet.”

“I don’t doubt it. But have you considered your… living arrangements?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We have. She’s a queen, you see, but they call them princesses there, so she has to stay with her people most of the time. But we could be traveling from one place to another. We’ll be here for a while, she’ll join me and I’ll present her to everyone.”

“I see.”

“Is she fluent in the Common Tongue?” peaked in maester Alfred.

 

Dick fidgeted with an inkpot. It was extremely hot in the solar, the fire blazing to counter the summer snowstorm outside.

 

“Not really,” he admitted after a while.

“Then how did you even…,” Bruce started, dumbfounded.

“I am afraid it has to do with the language of love, my lord,” the maester smiled.

 

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“I can’t leave her,” Dick suddenly interjected, cautious of the way his adoptive father was taking the news. “I didn’t wed her as a joke. I meant it.”

 

The man looked up at Alfred, who kept on sporting an amused grin.

 

“I don’t mean to imply you should do so,” Bruce began, “but I’m disappointed that you didn’t think of the consequences of your actions.”

“What consequences? I gained you quite an interesting trade ally.”

“Yes, but an ally we do not need. The North is where we face our greater challenges. I don’t think a Summer princess can do much about wildlings. And we don’t need… incense that much.”

 

Dick deflated.

 

“Maybe not, but it’s better than nothing. You can still marry Damian to some northern girl.”

 

Bruce laughed out loud this time.

 

“Yes, in ten years. That is if we survive until then.”

“And you are assuming Lady Talia did not already list all the eligible Dornish brides for her son,” unhelpfully added maester Alfred.

 

Dick groaned.

 

“I don’t know what to say,” he whined. “I don’t regret it, and even if we made a hasty decision, I’m sure I’ll love her to my grave.”

 

He could never regret it, he realized as his mind drifted back to glorious red hair cascading down a dusky back, curving into voluptuous hips.  

 

“We will manage without an arranged marriage, I believe,” the elderly maester decided, ripping him out of his enjoyable daydream. “And we will greet your royal wife as lavishly as we can, will we not?” he pressed, giving his lord a pointed look.

 

Bruce breathed out again.

 

“We will,” he conceded in defeat.

 

Dick beamed as relief washed over him.

 

“Thank you, Bruce. You will see, she’s a…”

 

A rap at the door didn’t let him finish his sentence.

 

“Oh, pardon me, I must have forgotten my appointment,” maester Alfred apologized.

 

He hurried to open.

 

“I knew you wouldn’t remember,” snickered Jason as he stepped into the room with an armful of books.

“I am very sorry, my lord.”

“I don’t mind. And I ain’t lord,” he waved off, shrugging.

 

He took in the scene around the table and snorted.

 

“Oh my goodness gracious, if it’s not the golden child dignifying us of his presence,” he deadpanned. “Nice tan.”

 

He dropped the books on the seat by the fire and watched them bounce once.

 

“So, Al. We’re talking about that bitch of a map or…”

“Language,” Bruce interrupted.

 

Jason rolled his eyes.

 

“Sorry. I meant that gorgeous, bountiful map, whom I very much respect and adore, even if I can't manage to read it without a magnifying glass and about four tomes of translated thesaurus,” he said with a smirk.

 

Maester Alfred smiled behind his hand and nodded.

 

“Yes, certainly. Allow me to gather my writing apparatus.”

 

While he was doing so, Jason approached Dick and tumbled into the chair next to him.

 

“It was fun? The Summer Isles, I mean.”

 

It was the second time only that he’d addressed Dick personally, and the Dothraki found himself shying away from his intense stare. Jason was so at ease with this environment already, like he wasn’t fighting and yelling for his freedom last time they met. Dick understood he was jealous, just a tiny bit, as he considered the young ironborn’s sprawl on the seat. Envious that Jason felt so much more at home than he ever did.

 

“Yes, it was very fun,” he answered after a long, awkward silence. “It was sunny almost all the time. I got married.”

“Yeah, heard that. ‘Bet she’s real pretty.”

“The prettiest,” he smiled, because it was true.

“Can’t wait to meet her,” Jason chuckled, and Dick decided he liked him laughing better than screaming.

“And you?” he asked back, remembering his manners. “You seem happier than… than you used to be.”

 

The ward made a dubious noise and scrunched his nose. They were small, pale freckles there.  

 

“Could be better,” he replied. “But I was going crazy locked up in my room, so I had to shut up eventually. They killed my father, too, back there, so I guess I’m lucky I wasn’t in Ol' Wyk when it happened.”

“We’re not sure your father died,” Bruce rectified, “but he had to face a counter-revolt and he disappeared without a trace.”

“Right,” the ironborn made with disgust. “He’s such a fucking coward he probably just ran away.”

“Besides this event,” the lord went on, as if to redirect the conversation, “it was Jason’s name day last week.”

“Why d’you have to say it like that?” the ward blurted, redder in the face than he was a moment ago. “T’is just a birthday, it ain’t special.”

“Oh! Merry belated name day!” Dick wished, thinking of Jason’s blush as the most adorable thing. “What age are you now?”

“Fourteen,” the teen mumbled.

 

He was older than Dick had thought, even if he did hit a growth spurt while he was away. Now he was almost as tall as the Dothraki, but still way ganglier. Dick realized he had to think of a suitable gift, and he wondered if Bruce would let Jason sail with him. He bet the ironborn was better at it than himself.

 

“Did you celebrate it?” he inquired again.

 

He sure loved birthday festivities, and his own ten-and-eight name day’s gathering had lasted almost a week.

 

“Nah,” Jason said, sounding almost fearful that Dick would throw a party right that instant.

“That’s a shame,” he stated. “If you don’t like big events, you could come on a travel with me, next time.”

“That would be… nice,” the ward pondered, a smirk tugging gently at his lips.

 

Dick grinned back, and mused that the ironborn’s eyes were the exact same shade as the Smiling Sea.

 

 

...

 

 

The last time they met, they were friends.

 

 

“And then I stabbed him right into the belly. Just like that.”

 

Jason mimicked himself, fending the air with an imaginary sword.

 

“I would be very awestruck, if I didn’t ask you to stay away from this one,” Dick answered, crossing his arms.

“Oh, come on! Don’t _Bruce_ me. The guards weren’t doing shit. I just helped.”

 

The Dothraki sighed. He wasn’t really mad, but he had to play that part, or else Jason would keep disobeying direct orders, and by the gods he already wasn’t so good at following them.

 

“Anyways, you can’t keep being pissed at me,” the ironborn added after a while, flopping his too wide hands on his sides. “I got something for you.”

 

Dick chuckled.

 

“Right. Gifts to make amends. That always works.”

“It worked with you and your summerwife when you said that dumb thing about swan ships,” the ward derided.

“It wasn’t stupid! I truly thought they were in a swan shape.”

“Do you also think I’m made from actual iron? Be glad for your pretty face, bird brain.”

 

He rolled his eyes. Jason could be such a brat when he decided to.

 

“Your gift better be good, if you keep insulting me like that,” he said instead of defending himself.

“Well… It’s not much,” the other mumbled, efficiently subdued.

 

He was looking at his own foot, his whole attitude way less smug than it was a moment ago, almost sheepish.

 

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Dick said to encourage him, feeling bad that he made him insecure.

 

Jason shrugged and dug into his pocket for a while. The unwrapped present made a tinkling noise.

 

“Alfred told me once about your people, and how that was something they did when they won a battle. But your hair’s too short, so I made it a bracelet.”

 

He was given a small silver bell, attached to a delicate chain.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Dick murmured, because it was true.

 

He slid it right around his wrist, enjoying the delicate sound it made. Jason was blushing so hard he looked like he was about to die, but the Dothraki didn’t mind.

 

“It’s a very sweet attention, Jay,” he insisted. “I’ve seen men with them in their hair before, and thought it was very impressive.”

“If it’s too much, you don’t have to wear it. I know you’re not from a warrior family, and not really into Dothraki tradition and all, but I don’t know. I thought it would suit you well,” the ironborn rambled.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

 

He hugged the spluttering ward against his chest, squeezing tight.

 

“Without you, we wouldn't have won against them, you know,” he said as he let go.

“You’re a better commander than you give yourself credit for, pretty bird. You would’ve contained the raid without my help. I only backstabbed a few of them.”

 

Dick laughed. Jason had killed most of the wildlings, sneaking behind the rest of the soldiers to surprise them on their flank and dispersing them in the woods, taking them one by one. He was deserving the bell, not him. But he accepted the gift, surprised that the ironborn could be so thoughtful. Although now that he was thinking of it, Jason had grown, and his anger had softened. He was turning into quite a decent man, more and more so every passing day. And handsome too, with bright teal eyes and dark hair that shone almost auburn in the afternoon sun. He would break many hearts later, Dick assessed as the ward smiled at him. And then sadness panged in his heart, because he was going to ruin this moment, and the overall happiness of this lazy day at the cabin by the pond. Not even enough time to unwind from the raid that he was already pressed to move again.

 

“I have something to tell you,” he muttered in a sigh, and immediately Jason lost his grin.

 

He sat in the shade of a tall fir and stretched his legs in front of him. The ward followed him, but stayed poised on the side of a rock.

 

“Kory needs to head back to Tamaran. Someone took the island back while she was away.”

“You’re going with her,” Jason said more than asked.

“Yes.”

 

The ironborn snorted a derisive laugh.

 

“You’re going to miss my birthday again,” he mentioned.

“I wanted to take you with me, but Bruce…”

“Bruce can’t let go of a ward. I know, I ain’t a moron. I could force you to sail to Ol’ Wyk or some stupid shit like that. As if I’d ever want go back there.”

 

Dick hummed, defeated. Jason’s accent always got thicker with emotion, and he couldn’t help but think he would miss it while he was gone. Because it was to be a long travel, he knew. They had to kick out invaders on the whole island. It was no small task, and the Summer Islands were quite far away from the North.

 

“I’ll be back for your ten-and-sixth name day, I promise. I wouldn’t miss your coming to manhood, after all.

 

Jason wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at the comment, and Dick huffed.

 

“Not _that_ kind of coming to manhood, dumbass.”

“A guy can still dream.”

 

He didn’t reply. He still wasn’t sure if Jason was joking when he said that sort of things, or if he was downright flirting, and he didn’t want to hype the young man’s expectations. He was charming, sure, but Dick was married to an absolutely gorgeous woman and had no time to deal with a teenager’s crush.

 

“When are you leaving?” the ironborn asked suddenly, very gently.

“Tomorrow, or the day after.”

 

Jason nodded slowly.

 

“Want to read with me?” he asked with a soft tone Dick didn’t get to hear so often.

“I’d rather you read _to_ me,” he answered, trying a smile.

 

The ironborn beamed at him and went to fetch a book. Dick never shared that passion for reading that Alfred had tried so hard to develop in him, since the letters were always too hard to decipher, but Jason made any story interesting, sometimes commenting the lines he’d read out loud in his smooth, deep voice. The Dothraki had only discovered this interest of the ward very lately, and regretted he didn’t let Jason read to him sooner.

 

“What’s it going to be, today?” he inquired when the teen made his way back from the cabin.

“I thought you’d enjoy a choice between _‘Lies of the Ancients’_ and _‘The Loves of Queen Nymeria’_.”

“Fantastic. Conspiracy theories about the North, or romance.”

“Your favorites.”

 

Dick laughed, since the remark hit quite close to the truth.

 

“I think _‘Lies of the Ancients’_ is a safer bet. You always go in too many details when you read love stories.”

“Too many details? You didn’t hear my input on _‘Against the Unnatural’_. The amount of bullshit in that book is incredible.”

“Enough ranting,” Dick pressed. “Tell me of how the Wall was actually made by dragons.”

 

Jason sniggered and went down on the grass next to the Dothraki, who closed his eyes to listen better and enjoy the steady flow of the reader’s voice for one last time.

 

...

 

 

The last breath Jason took, he hoped to see him, and didn't.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
